Viewfinder
by Murasame Warrior
Summary: AU, crossover. A journalism photographer survives a chain of tragedies during an assignment with her team and is constantly haunted by their deaths and vanishings. But when she receives a strange camera, she decides to crack the mystery behind the events.
1. Prologue

**Viewfinder  
**A/N: I can't believe it took me such a long time to realize that I love The Fairly Odd Parents so much. I mean, back then I used to watch this show everyday, and not a single, "Dude! This is the best show ever!" escaped from me. But after a few good marathons and a few creative FOP fanfics, I've become attached. And also recently, my friend gave me a copy of the latest installment in the Fatal Frame series, and I've become addicted to bashing ghosts with an old camera as well. So, take some pink and green fairies, some Japanese horror and a musty camera; put them all together and what have you got? A story called "Viewfinder" that you're about to read...**NOW**.

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own both The Fairly Odd Parents and the Fatal Frame series. They belong to the brilliant creators, Butch Hartman and Keisuke Kikuchi, respectively. I also do not own any commercial names that I might mention in this story.**

21st of March, year 2006; Starbucks café, Dimmsdale, CA--  
_It has been nearly four months since the series of tragedies have occurred. No one expected that what started out a simple assignment would soon turn into a chain of macabre deaths and inexplicable disappearances. I feel terribly bothered about these events, but it is not just the deaths that are keeping me from peace. I should've seen the signs a long time ago. I should've paid attention to the clues—those crystal clear clues. If I had, then...then maybe, I could've done something to prevent it._

"Dammit!" Along with the curse came the sound of a porcelain mug hitting the surface of the wooden table. The piping hot espresso spilled on the table and on the drinker's hand. The woman, about in her mid-twenties, didn't seem to feel the burning coffee splatter on her skin though. This has been the umpteenth time that her subconscious has risen to the surface of her thoughts. She had absolutely no idea why the memories that she's trying very hard to forget keep on resisting to be forgotten.

_Maybe because her conscience prevents her from doing so? Or maybe because it really was her fault why those disasters happened?_

The woman began to run her hands over her head in a sort of agony one cannot identify. She wasn't feeling any physical pain. It was inside her head, like a shrill ringing. A few strands of her black hair slipped to the side of her face as she shut her eyes in distress. _No...no...it wasn't my f-fault..._, The woman pleaded in her thoughts. The ringing then became louder, more intense. But as it grew louder, another sound could be heard amidst the humming. It was muffled and almost inaudible, but she knew it was the voice of a person. It was a slow, ghostly moan. The ringing has reached the point that it has become too unbearable. Her head hit the table, hands still clutching it in pain.

"Stop...stop it!" What she originally planned to scream out loud fell as a soft, low whisper. The people in the nearby table noticed the woman writhing and decided to help her out with whatever's wrong. One of them, a middle-aged man, stood up from their table and approached the woman cautiously.

"Excuse me, miss...but can we help you in any way?" He lifted a finger to tap her on the shoulder. Just before his finger made contact to her, the ringing in the woman's head stopped. She slowly opened her bespectacled eyes, which were now rimmed with a few scared tears. _The noise has stopped_, She thought—a bit relieved. But then, just when she though everything was okay,

"_Help me...help...I don't want to die...I don't want to be taken into the Abyss..._" The ghostly groan filled her ears again; only this time, it was a lot comprehensible. The woman was frozen—head still down, only her eyes were open. A single drop of tear trickled down the side of her face.

"Hello, miss?" The middle-aged man finally touched her on the shoulder. As he touched her on the shoulder, voice faded and the woman immediately saw her surroundings change. She was no longer in Starbucks. She was back _there_. Color has been drained everywhere, as the café turned into the scene of the misfortune. Intermittent scenes of the deaths she witnessed firsthand flashed in front of her like a disfigured slideshow. She was taken back into her memories of the horrifying events. They were all there...

_The fire, the car accident, the train and the peculiar disappearances._

Black and white as they were, she could still make out the scenes. And they were vividly presented despite the lack of color. They all flickered quite fast, only leaving traces of the events. Except for one, though. It was the last image, a picture of what looked like a vast village. It stayed there for a while. Smaller houses were around a huge, old manor, and an even older house was connected to the mansion. It was a village with two manors in it. More tears trailed down her face, smudging up the heavy mascara and eyeliner around her eyes. Ugly black lines dried up on her cheeks. Flecks of snow fall gently on the ground, but the woman felt nothing gentle of them. Then, after a while of lingering, the image of the village-manor disappeared. The woman could see only static.

"...I'm...sorry..." These were her last words before she slowly fainted. She could only make out voices of people panicking and causing quite a commotion around her.

_Quick! Call an ambulance!_

_She fainted! Get a med or something, stat!_

_Hello? Dimmsdale Medical? We have a situation..._

As she began to lose contact with outside phenomena, the fading images of the massacre—and _that place_—flashed a bit before her. But there was something else before the visions were finally gone: an image of a strange, old camera.


	2. The Beginning

A/N: Just a quick ramble. When I said "take some pink and green fairies" in the earlier A/N, I'm not really talking about Cosmo and Wanda appearing in this fic _as_ fairy godparents. They will appear as something else, but definitely not fairies. Also, I'll be putting in some references about all three Fatal Frame games in here like dates, the rituals, the people, etc. That being said, we're not just going to stay in Dimmsdale for the duration of this fic. Okay, now all that hoo-haw's done, onwards to the story!

**Disclaimer: See the Prologue.**

_Snow was falling continuously. An infinite night shrouded where I was. I am scared. Somehow, I get the feeling that I shouldn't be here. But...where exactly is "here"? I was standing in front of a large gate leading into the village inside. From here, I could see a towering manor. Its vast size was intimidating, as if the building seemed to loom over me. I could make out another big and even older mansion behind the first one. Could they be connected somehow, I questioned silently. My thoughts were disrupted by the sound of voices. Voices coming from inside the village walls. Strangely, I seemed to want to go through the gates. I claim that the voices were beckoning me. They sounded familiar, until I realized that they were the voices of my departed colleagues. Besides their beckoning, what drove me to go inside was my urge to meet them. I was hoping I could reach them and undo what has happened. So I decided, I will go in. I put my hands on the wooden double doors and pushed them open. As the doors spread apart, their voices got clearer..._

_Nicolette..._

_Nicolette?_

"Nicolette? Oh, she's coming to." A blur said to another. The woman who fainted earlier opened her eyes into narrow slits. Her eyes felt tired and they cannot transmit any clear picture at the moment. Everything around her was a hazy fog, but she can make out that she was reclined on a bed. The woman, referred to as Nicolette by the "blur", shifted her head to the two smears speaking with each other. They seem to be talking about her.

"Wh-where...?" Nicolette asked feebly. One of the blurs walked over to the bed and sat near her. Nicolette realized that the blur was a friend of hers. "...Chester?" The haze grabbed something from the nearby table and handed it to her.

"Yeah, it's me. Put these on." Said the blur, as Nicolette took the object from him. It was her glasses. She put it on and the surrounding came into focus. Her eyes still hurt, resulting in a muddled eyesight. Sitting next to her was the one she called Chester. He was roughly two years older than she is, with blonde hair that reached to his neck, but was kept in a short ponytail. As he smiled, he bared his bracket-encrusted teeth. Nicolette glanced around and saw that she was indeed in a bed; one that came with a remote control and sheets bearing the insignia of Dimmsdale Medical. She has been taken to the hospital. Standing behind Chester was an Indian man who was wearing a white coat and was sporting a stethoscope. He was obviously the doctor.

"Why am I here?" Nicolette asked, completely oblivious of the whole Starbucks commotion.

"You don't remember?" Chester blurted out in surprise. Nicolette shook her head. The Indian doctor stepped forward to give Nicolette's medical report. He adjusted his glasses and then flipped through the papers clasped on his clip board.

"Ms. Satriani, you fainted while you were in a coffee shop." The doctor said, his native Indian accent kicking in as he spoke. "By the way, my name is Doctor Sanjay Gupta. You were brought here by some of the other customers in the café. They said you were in uncontrollable discomfort before you fainted."

"They had to get hold of your I.D. for you to be checked in here." Said Chester. "They also called me on my cell when they found the 'in case of emergency' crap on it. Too bad they left the bill with me." He added as a last minute joke.

"Wow. I must remember to thank them." Nicolette muttered, but since she didn't get a look on their faces, the chances of doing so are pretty bleak.

"And speaking of those people," Dr. Gupta began. "They said you were muttering things like, 'I'm sorry' and 'stop it', while you were experiencing pain. They said it was like you were being haunted by your thoughts." Interesting choice of words. Nicolette said nothing. She remembered the strange manor that appeared in her head. It seemed so familiar, like she's been there before. Besides experiencing déjà vu, what's weirder is that all her dead and missing colleagues were there. They were beckoning her. It was not at all weird—it was spooky. Nicolette knew it couldn't be real. _They're all dead_, She thought. And that village-manor. There was something very wrong with it. Nicolette wanted to steer clear of those visions. She did not want to see them anymore. But she couldn't help but wonder:

_Are they appearing to me because they have a purpose?_  
-----

After a few hours of rest, Nicolette was discharged from the hospital. She sat near the reception counter as Chester handed the nurse the money for the bill. After Chester was done, he walked past Nicolette, but gave a "let's go" gesture while he was at it. They walked out of the hospital building and towards the parking lot where Chester's car was.

"You should avoid drinking too much coffee." Chester intended to joke about it, but somehow, his voice fell on a serious note. Nicolette slipped into the passenger seat and buckled up. Chester did the same on the driver's seat.

"It's not the coffee, Ches." Nicolette merely mumbled. "Lately, everything seems so out of proportion."

"Coffee." Said Nicolette's blonde friend in the driver's seat, his voice lighter now. Chester revved up the engine and drove off into the street. Normally, Nicolette would turn this thing into a heated debate, but she was not in the mood for any arguments with Chester. All she can think about were her visions and dreams. Chester would occasionally glance at her to see if she was okay. She just sat there without any word. "...You okay, Nicolette?" Chester couldn't hold the words much longer.

"I'm fine." Came her answer. There was nothing occupying the woman's mind except the manor and her dead companions. She wanted to know many things—why they were killed off one after the other, why did some of them disappear, how did all of this happen and what is up with that creepy manor. Chester looked at her, puzzled.

"Okay...maybe a little snack would do you good." Chester proposed, steering off the main road. A towering pole with a huge, curvy, yellow "M" was visible from the car. Chester drove to the direction of the "M tower" and saw the McDonald's food chain next to it. Chester saw a good spot to park the car in and moved towards it. "Well, that's a good pick." He added. But as Chester was about to place the car in the slot, the wheel was taken by a panicking Nicolette.

"Chester, look out!" Nicolette screamed, grabbing the steering wheel and swerving the car to the side. A man suddenly walked into the parking space just before Chester drove in it. A loud screech came from the wheels, leaving a few black trails on the asphalt. The man had his back turned against them and he doesn't seem to want to move. He was wearing a dirty green shirt and pants that had many stains on them. Nicolette couldn't see his face.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Chester's voice was a mix of alarm and annoyance. "I was about to park this thing!"

"You were about to hit that man over there, Chester!" Nicolette argued angrily, pointing to the parking space. The man was still there, and he was very hard to miss. Chester looked over to the car park space. He looked at Nicolette with frustrated green eyes.

"Nicolette," Chester said, trying to suppress an outburst. "There is nobody there!" Nicolette looked at the parking space.

The man with the dirty clothes was gone.


	3. Remnants

A/N: Though I haven't received any reviews yet, I'm still very excited in writing this story. This is the first time I've ever done a crossover-AU-horror fic, so one might find some loose pieces dangling out from the plot. In case something like that happens, feel free to inform me. I take constructive criticism, as long as it's not rude or impolite. Anyway, less chit-chat, more reading. Haha, I got to get over my talkativeness.

**Disclaimer: See the Prologue.**

Chester and Nicolette have seated themselves down in the food chain and got their food. After the "vanishing man" incident earlier, Nicolette hasn't said a word. Chester tried to make another coffee joke about the incident, but Nicolette just won't give him a smile. Chester just ordered for her a cheeseburger, which was slowly losing its freshness as minutes pass by. He was a bit worried about Nicolette. She never used to be this way. The Nicolette he knew was forward, active and confident. But the one he's been seeing lately was always tired and uneasy. Chester knew that the event four months ago is the root cause of Nicolette's sudden change in behavior. The raven-haired woman was looking at the low, gray clouds outside the window. Her skin was like the clouds—lifeless and gray. He knew the she was still thinking about what happened in the parking lot. Taking a long sip from the straw, Chester decided to get her mind off what's bothering her

"Hey, how about I get'cha one of those wittle Happy Meals, eh?" Chester contorted his voice to sound like that of a small boy. "Look, they've got the Flipsy Mini Memorabilia collection!" Chester pointed to the smaller-than-usual Flipsy toy dogs that were brought back to commemorate the toy's huge success. Nicolette shifted her head towards Chester and gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. Chester didn't get it. Nicolette used to love Flipsy back then—even when they reached high school. He just doesn't know what happened to his friend.

"Come on, smile, Nicolette." Chester's voice was like that of a child tugging at his mother's skirt. "You used to be so loud and lively...and loud." Chester grinned a bit at his last remark. Nicolette pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and gave a somewhat indignant scoff.

"Little Miss Lively's gone, Chester." Nicolette muttered coldly. "And so is the rest of the ball of sunshine you used to know." She went back to surveying the low clouds. "I don't think I'll be smiling anytime soon." Chester was silent for a brief while. He didn't want to see her like this. His thoughts eventually led him to dig up a lost part of Nicolette's past.

"I just wish you turned back into the cheerful lady you used to be..." Chester said softly. "...Tootie." In an instant, Nicolette gave a sharp jerk. Her eyes were slightly wide behind her black-rimmed glasses as she looked at Chester. It has been so many years since she was called by her "baby nickname". Her onyx eyes were fixed still on him. But it didn't take long before the surprise wore off. Nicolette brushed it off her shoulder and acted as if nothing had hit her.

"Stop looking for something you'll never find, Ches." Nicolette said icily. "Tootie's dead and we should just let her lie in peace." Nicolette stood up and started to walk towards the door. But she was stopped by Chester's voice.

"...Just remember, Nicolette." He said, giving emphasis on Nicolette's name. "Even though Terrence and the others have passed on, you are not alone to walk down that road." Chester got up and walked past Nicolette, who stood frozen on the spot. A lone tear escapes from her eye as she heard _his_ name once again.  
-----

Willow Arch Suburban village, Dimmsdale, CA—  
It was not all welcoming to be back at the house. Nicolette couldn't feel the comfort of her own home as she walked into the living room. Nicolette remembered having the curtains draped over all the windows after the tragedy. The curtains were over the windows and were preventing any sunlight to penetrate the house. The room was dark, like the rest of the house. Somehow, she feels she doesn't deserve to see the sun. The air around the house became heavy as well. Nicolette sat on the sofa directly facing the blank television. She knew she shouldn't be moping around too much. Eventually, she needed to get over what happened to move on.

"...Ches is right. I don't have to go through this alone." Nicolette sighed, reclining on the sofa. Her eyes moved towards the empty fireplace, which hasn't been used for a long time and was already gathering dust. On top of hearth were several picture frames, all occupied with Nicolette's memories. Almost all of them were pictures of her, Chester and a man who had side-swept brown hair and a pair of strong gray eyes. One thing that is also noticeable about him was his two buckteeth that were protruding from his mouth. Nicolette remembered the fun times that the three of them had together, including the times when they were trying to persuade the brown-haired man to get braces for his teeth.

"Terrence..." Nicolette muttered. She then heard a light shuffling. _It's probably Mason_, Nicolette thought, assuming that the noise was made by her dog. "He probably got himself locked in the closet again." The shuffling came on again, this time a little louder. Nicolette turned to approach the broom closet under the stairs. She opened the closet and instead of finding her dog, there was a man sitting inside. Nicolette stumbled backwards. She tried to scream, but she was too deep in shock to do so. The man in the closet slowly stood up and walked towards her. He had angry red patches all over his body and he emitted a smell of gasoline.

"_Help me...I don't want to be sent...to the Abyss..._" He groaned in a ghostly voice. The shrill ringing filled Nicolette's ears once again. As the man was going closer, it became louder. He stretched out one burnt arm and continued begging for help.

"...N-No...get...get away from me!" Out of instinct, Nicolette grabbed the nearest object and used it to defend herself. She reached for a camera sitting on the living room table and shot the figure without hesitation. After a single strong flash from the camera's bulb, Nicolette lowered the contraption. The burnt man has disappeared. Soon after, the main door opened and in came Chester. He saw Nicolette on the floor, staring blankly into space and holding a camera. Chester could see she was shivering and rushed over to her to see if she was okay.

"Whoa! Nicolette, what happened?" Chester asked worriedly, rushing over to his friend and kneeling beside her. Nicolette couldn't say a word, as her lips were shaking like the rest of her body. All she was doing was murmuring incoherently while staring at the open broom closet.

"...Into...the...A-Abyss...I'm s-sorry..." She kept repeating these words in gibberish. And it wasn't long until she threw herself on Chester, embracing him tightly while crying terrified. Chester didn't say anything further. It was worse than he thought. The effects of the tragedy were more than he expected. It was then that Chester decided Nicolette needed professional help. But he didn't know that these were not effects of depression. These are pieces of an even bigger puzzle.


End file.
